Dear Pfeiffer,

During the season of love, my heart breaks for you. 

Let’s start with sorry. Sorry for everything. 

We both know what’s next. We both know they are taking you away. They will burn you to the ground and stomp on your ashes. 

Why are they so filled with hate, Pfeiffer? Why do they wish to end you so badly?

Their agenda is to put you in the history books. They want you gone. They want you replaced. 

Thank you for everything you’ve done for this campus, community and its people. You fed the mouths of thousands, and never asked for anything in return. No matter the situation, you were there. Sure, the food wasn’t always the prettiest or tastiest, but it got the job done. 

With one swipe of a plastic barcode, students and faculty have been invited to a buffet unlike any other. Where else can you eat a cheeseburger with a side of Lucky Charms at 8:37 p.m. on a Wednesday in December?

The truth is, they never deserved you. You were the pinnacle of a full-stomach until a knock-off Subway and McDonald’s stole your shine. Flex dollars made boards look like chump-change. It was never your fault, it was just a sign of the times. 

As the lines for Sub-Connection extend to the moon during lunch hour, your beautiful waffle maker waits patiently. Your cottage cheese lays dormant. Your pasta cries for help. 

The voices of hate are too loud to hear those of appreciation. There is a silent majority in America- and it’s those who love Pfeiffer dining hall. 

Pfeiffer supporters swipe in everyday, ready to indulge in the spoils you offer. They’re ready to eat chicken patties and drink bagged milk like there’s no tomorrow. 

Pfeiffer supporters are forever thankful for the conversations that happen around those circle tables. Discussion and debate is encouraged at the Pfeiffer tables. Simpson College’s future world-changers ate at those tables. 

Yet they still cry for your downfall. In every discussion, meeting, debate or construction plan the goal is clear- to terminate Pfeiffer. 

It’s too late to stop them. Their decision has been made, and they will get to work as soon as they possibly can. 

When you’re gone, they will realize their mistake. They will understand the consequences of their actions. They will regret the construction when they’re craving Cinnamon Toast Crunch on a Thursday afternoon. 

Those brick walls, inconveniently placed support beams and TV’s that are never on will be missed dearly. Your sense of safety will be gone with the wind. 

When the dust settles, we can only hope they remember you. You leave behind an unmatched legacy. You leave behind memories and meals no other Simpson dining service will be able to replicate. 

This is our last Valentine’s Day together. It’s important you know the love many have for you. When you go, I hope it’s painless and peaceful, like you deserve. 

Forgive them Pfeiffer, they do not know what they’ve done.